by Arthur Stone
In addition, he carried an inflatable boat and motor which March had stashed in the hovercraft to be used later for their safe exit away from the border. It was unclear where he had found it, but it would significantly speed up a substantial portion of their journey.
At this point in the trip, though, it was a heavy burden. Cheater often cursed the world and everyone in it as they descended.
He was carrying enough for a whole team of Sherpas. His Strength allowed him to press on, but not in comfort.
At the very bottom, things became more interesting. The landslide had been triggered by massive river flows at the base. Apparently, several turbulent rivulets began to converge here. Further down, they merged into a single torrent that continued northeast. If March was correct, and the boat was still intact, it would greatly help them pass the remaining borderland areas teeming with infecteds.
They may not have known how Janitor controlled flocks of ghouls, but they did know that he was gone. There could still be quite a few nasty surprises in this area, and they had no one but themselves to rely on..
All sorts of ghouls caught their eye as they climbed down, but thankfully they were been distant. Only two or three times had they needed to freeze and wait for some beasts to wander by.
Down below, by the shore itself, they saw nothing. It was as safe as they could expect it to be this close to the region’s edge. The land wedge they stood on now was not large, and both of its sides had been eroded away by rough water. Behind them, the third side of the wedge was blocked by the difficult descent. Unless the beasts were following something interesting, they were unlikely to tackle such obstacles.
They pumped up the boat a decent distance from the water itself, among the cover of some low bushes.
It inflated successfully. The hand pump’s hose was worn out, which slowed their work, but they were done before long.
Together they dragged it to the water. Cheater could have done this on his own, but there was less risk of snagging something on the ground this way.
Placing the boat in the water, they held it in place. Cheater tied the bow rope to a small bush near water’s edge and began fiddling with the motor. He was unaccustomed to this sort of work.
“Dammit!” Maple cried out as the front of the boat somehow lurched out into the water.
The stream had washed away the bank, and thus the bush, and thus the boat’s bow. It was being pulled in the current, towards the confluence of rivulets.
“It’s alright, I’m almost done,” Cheater reassured.
He had the motor attached now, but it refused to start. The cause was soon discovered and eliminated by hastily cleaning the gas and oil mix from the spark plug.
“Cheater!” Maple called out again.
He turned and gritted his teeth. Creatures had arrived: a couple of manmincers and six biters, along with developed tramplers, emerged onto the bank. Shooting them would be a pointless exercise. The bushes swayed in dozens of places, evidencing reinforcements. Their migration path had taken them right past the pair, and they had noticed the boat. Some rushed back and forth, afraid of the water, but others rushed in. It was shallow, and they would soon be across.
“Shoot them!” Cheater ordered. “I’m handling the engine!”
“No, you shoot, and I’ll do that,” the frightened healer offered as she glanced at the rifle.
“You good with motors?”
Maple nodded. “When I was little my grandad would take me fishing. I recalled that not so long ago. I bet I know how.”
There was no time to evaluate the veracity or validity of this line—the beasts would be here shortly. Since the healer was categorically opposed to inflicting violence, even against the infecteds, it seemed, he had to take up his rifle.
With his first shots, Cheater killed the quickest of them. Then, he switched to his bow, the one he had obtained from Watershed, to save on bullets. His arrows were powerful, and he did not have to worry about losing them. They always returned to him.
Anyone who learned that binding spheres were spent on arrows would laugh. But Cheater had possessed the means to do that and more.
A new batch of creatures rushed to the edge. This time, an elite apparently training to join the Quaternity was among the biters and manmincers.
His rifle might not be able to deal with this one.
But the motor came to life, and his heart jumped with joy.
Time to go.
Maple turned the boat, directing it to run with the current. Fifty meters ahead, the confluence roared. Beyond, the stream expanded by dozens of yards, while remaining just as turbulent. They guessed that it deepened there. By that point, they would no longer be pressed in on both sides.
Cheater turned to the infecteds and flipped them off. “Peace, losers!”
They were out of it and on their way. A few hours later, the boat would exit the borderlands.
Thanks, March. He had done much better with the post-death instructions this time. Without a guide like Beetle, the pair of them would have had an abysmal chance of slipping through.
On his own, he was capable of much more. His usual behavior and Chameleon ability could render him invisible except at close range.
Players were social creatures, though. Living alone was possible, especially for a strong player, but it was not a happy existence.
Chapter 35
Life Nine. Trust Issues.
“So that’s the girl you’re going to meet. How long have you known her?” Maple asked out of nowhere.
“From pretty much my first day on the Continent.”
“And how long were you together?”
The question took Cheater by surprise. How long had it been? His internal time tracking was all confused. After all, players did not agree on a standard calendar. “Not long enough. A matter of days. That whole time, we were running away from someone, treating her leg, and hiding. I don’t remember any fun moments, come to think of it—but when I remember it, it makes me smile.”
He was indeed smiling.
“So a few days, and you grew so attached to her that you’ve traveled half the Continent?” Maple asked darkly.
“Why not? We certainly weren’t bored during that time. A day can feel like a month when so much is happening all the time.”
“I heard Clown say you weren’t going to abandon the party. That you wanted to establish a life here.”
Cheater nodded. “I don’t see the point in wandering farther. We can’t run forever. So why not stop here? This region is no worse than any other. Our team is small, but it has people who are interesting and useful and who have earned our trust.”
“And now you have a healer?” Maple wondered, still darkly.
Cheater hesitated, then continued in a softer tone. “Actually, you can decide for yourself now. If you want to stay, we will be happy to have you. Healer is a rare profession, as you know. But no one will force you.”
“Or even try to... persuade me?” the girl followed, grinning cheerlessly.
Cheater was about to joke, but then he realized that his choice of ability was now decided. It was time to decide anyway. Of course, he should have had a decent consult with March and Clown first, but oh, what the hell...
He should have put this in motion before, too, but he had hesitated. Had his doubts. Lately, there had not been any time for serious conversation. The crossing had been a flurry, right from the start.
March had been right. And Tat, too. He stalled too much, and that was bad.
“I have a secret,” Cheater began after some time. “An interesting bonus, from the System. Several abilities are on offer, and I can only choose one. Out of all of them, two are quite useful for my style of play. They’ll make me quite a bit stronger. Another is useful for the party. I think I’ll take that one. You may want to be friends with a person who has such an ability. And I, in turn, may want to be friends with a healer. Mutual benefit.”
“What does the ability give?” Maple asked.
“Something that everyone wants. Lives. It allows lives to be transferred from one player to another. Would you really turn down a couple more lives?”
“I’ve heard about this before,” Maple replied. “A very rare skill, I think.”
“It is,” Cheater nodded. “I checked.”
“So how does it work? You can forcibly siphon lives away?”
“No, the System won’t allow that. The transfer has to be voluntary.”
“Who would possibly agree to that?”
“Everything is for sale, Maple. Including lives. Price is the only question. I bet there are plenty of people who would trade a life for a few thousand spores.”
“You’re right about that. Some might trade it for a hundred, if you catch them at the right time. But I have nothing. Not even a hundred spores.”
“You’ve got plenty,” Cheater replied confidently. “You are entitled to your share of the loot—and there was lots of loot. I doubt our party will have money problems in general. The one issue is that this skill has many limitations. All sorts of limitations. For instance, you cannot keep throwing extra lives at the same person, nor can you keep taking them from the same donor. Plus, the cooldown is very long. Each of us will, over time, be able to pick up two or three lives per year.”
“In the course of a year I lose something like five lives.”
“Not if you join a great team. Our team...”
Cheater jerked to the side, hiding behind a low bush, and raised his rifle. Maple followed suit.
For several seconds, nothing happened, and the girl dared to ask a whispered question. “You hear something?”
Cheater was unsure. “No, but I did see something flash. It looked like the glint off binoculars. I need to check it out.”
The terrain here did not look good. They had been moving through this area ever since abandoning the boat. It was aesthetically nice enough, but seemed quite dangerous. A nearly flat steppe with few bushes and only occasional trees. There was no way around it, either: It stretched out nearly to the horizon. Further on, a low ridge rose, offering protection from evil eyes. But it was a mile’s walk away.
At least the cluster was wild. There were so few traces of human activity that it could easily be confused with a stable. Infecteds did not like such places, so they were less likely to encounter them.
But on the Continent, ghouls were basically the lowest, safest problems. Plenty of other opponents harbored murderous intent.
“What is it?” Maple asked.
Cheater did not look up from his sight. “A vehicle. The glare came from the windshield.”
“Who’s driving it? Bots?”
“Best not to mention bots,” Cheater snapped quietly. “You don’t want to jinx it.”
He had not been so superstitious before, but things were changing. Especially when his goal was so close.
Impatience weighed down his nerves.
“Just an abandoned car, an ordinary civilian SUV. Looks like it’s been shot at, but I’m not sure.”
“I hear you have plenty of enemies around the Continent, including here,” Maple replied. “Are you sure this is a good region to settle in?”
“I don’t remember having crowds of enemies here. Only one dangerous enemy. But I’ve encountered him twice now, and each time, I killed him rather easily. I’m not too afraid of him.”
“Of course not, then. Has your girlfriend responded yet?” Maple returned to Kitty.
“Not yet. No connection,” Cheater frowned.
“But you’re sure that she’s waiting for you.”
“Yeah. She hasn’t left the party. You can look for yourself. She even tried to communicate with me using a code.”
Maple shook her heard. “But this is the Continent. You can’t trust anyone here.”
“I can trust her,” Cheater insisted.
“Yesterday, the System gave me an achievement,” the healer said, abruptly changing the subject yet again. “An achievement related to... Related to Gang. The System noticed our separation. It was a good achievement, with a good bonus. Why do you think the System gives us such things? They’re quiet and unpredictable. Perhaps this girl has a quest related to you. If she lures you here, she gets the achievement.”
“Huh?”
“Imagine if your Kitty got the following System message: New quest! Make your lapdog cross ten regions. Quest rewards: blah, blah, blah... New quest! Find another lapdog and make him cross fifteen regions. The System gives out basic quests to everyone. It displays these whenever you respawn. I bet you have a quest related to Kitty there in your list, too.”
Maple was right about that last part.
Active quests: Survive, Search, Learn Secret, Help, Ask Correct Question, Find the Player Kitty.
There was no hint of rewards, though. Just those few words.
But “Find the Player Kitty” was indeed a quest.
“I understand what you mean,” Cheater admitted. “But I’m sorry, there’s no way. She’s not waiting for the sake of some achievement.”
“How do you know? You just said you only spent a few days with her. You believe that she also became this attached in that short time? There’s no veteran on the Continent so stubborn. At least not that I’ve heard of. That kind of devotion only happens to people in the old books that come in at resets. Books about normal people, in a normal world. We’re not like them. We don’t even have their memories anymore. You think the beasts here are the infecteds? No. We’re the beasts. We are the ghouls. Cold and unfeeling. When you take a person’s memory away, you’re taking that person away. Some lose more, and some lose less, sure. We lose our emotions in the process, too. Some here are incapable of empathy, while others have just a little of it. No one on the Continent is capable of such attachment—haven’t you noticed that?”
“I understand,” Cheater nodded, “but it’s not as bad as you think.”
“I don’t think this. I know this. We lose too much along with our memories. First, our conscience. That’s why no one here can be trusted. There are no friends. No loved ones. Just people whose interests align with yours, for mutual benefit. To them, though, you are expendable. If you die, they find someone else to take your place. Everyone here is basically the same, after all. Except for you, Cheater. Something’s different about you. What are the chances that something is different about her, too? I’ll tell you: zero. She’s using you somehow. I don’t know how, but somehow. Everyone here always uses everyone else. I’ve been nothing but used this whole time, but I’m far from alone in that. And I’ve gotten used to it. For her, you’re just a bonus. You have something to bring her: A backpack of mods, right? Plus the loot from the Trinity—uh, the Quaternity, I mean. Do not trust anyone. Look, March doesn’t even trust this Janitor of yours. And yet the Janitor died on a matter of principle. Trying to prove a point. Yet he did not prove anything. March will not trust him any more now than he did before. And you know what? March is right. We’re all honest people, but only when the time is right for honesty. That’s the only way to survive on the Continent.”
“Kitty’s not like that,” Cheater interrupted and insisted. “Sorry, that was a false alarm. Just an abandoned car. Let’s keep moving. The hills are not far, and there we can eat and rest.”
“What’s beyond the hills?” Maple said as she rose.
“If the map is correct, there’s a narrow strip of black clusters beyond. Then, a road that runs from north to south. Beyond the road, things get better. Lots of forests. Right now, I’m worried that...
Bullet!
Bullet!
Bullet!
Bullet!
...
The System warning bar appeared suddenly. It was one of the properties of Cheater’s ancient bracelet, which he had named Manhandler. An item with a ballistic trajectory had been fired at him. It might not be an actual bullet.
His Reaction time came through. As he was falling, Cheater shouted, “Down!”
Then,
he screamed as something decimated his shoulder. The flash of wild pain unplugged him from reality for a moment, and when he began to notice his thinking working again, he found himself lying on the ground, the roar of continuous machinegun fire sending a stream of rounds overhead. The prohibitively fast speed of the gun suggested it must be a rotating minigun. The weapon was not popular among players, as it consumed far too much ammo.
